


So Close That Your Eyes Close As I Fall Asleep

by Aftersilence



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Olympics RPF
Genre: And I mean quick this is so short you can read it on a bathroom break, But please don't drop your phone in the toilet I will not be responsible for that, F/M, Fluff, quick one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 01:37:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14438700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aftersilence/pseuds/Aftersilence
Summary: There was no frenzied grabbing at each other’s clothes or bruising of mouths as they met. Instead, as with everything they did, a perfect, calm synchronicity, with the fluency of two old lovers becoming reacquainted. It's effortless, just like skating.





	So Close That Your Eyes Close As I Fall Asleep

**Author's Note:**

> OK. So I really tried to make this longer than 1000 words, but it just didn't flow. Also, FYI, I totally don't believe this is what happened. I am firmly in the "they've been doing it since the comeback" camp (I really want to write something about how I think that happened, but fear I wouldn't do justice to either T/S or the insanely good fic already out there capturing how that might have gone down). But this little moment of Scott asking Tessa if they should call Ellen to alert her wouldn't leave my head, so I wrote it down. Feedback and constructive criticism much appreciated. 
> 
> And the poem at the start is my all-time favourite, I think it's such a beautiful depiction of love.

_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where._  
_I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;_  
_so I love you because I know no other way_

_than this: where I does not exist, nor you,_  
_so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,_  
_so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep._  
**\- Pablo Neruda (Sonnet Xvii)**

And then, just like that, it was over. The last weeks had been building to this, their biggest media appearance yet. They had prepped, practiced answers, known what they would be up against, and now they were on the other side. Scott stood in the corridor outside her dressing room, waiting patiently. After a few minutes, she emerged alone, most of the stage makeup wiped from her face and the new handbag that she had cooed over on Rodeo Drive the day before swinging from one hand. As one, they turned to walk down the corridor towards the side exit to the building, both feeling the sudden lightness that had always accompanied being on the other side of a challenge - be it twizzles, the goose, or the comeback that they had questioned over and over for those first months in Montreal, constantly wondering if they had made the right choice, if they were too old, if they even had the fight left in them to go through this again. Now, walking down the corridor together, perfectly in step, perfectly connected without needing to even look at each other, they felt the same relief that they had felt after they had conquered each challenge. The first time they came out of the twizzles and realised they had been perfectly in sync, the first time Tessa had stepped down out of the goose lift without missing a beat, when they finished their individual free dance in Pyeongchang and realised – REALLY realised – that they were done. 

***

They had talked, obviously, after the medal ceremony. Without preface or context, but as usual they hadn’t needed it.  
“We will never top that, T.”  
They had been sitting in silence for a few minutes, taking the time to do their reflections as B2Ten had taught them. Even today, on the (last – or maybe first) biggest day of their lives, they stuck to the routine.  
She had looked at him, unblinking and unwavering.  
“I know.”  
And just like that, they drew a line under their amateur career. What they hadn’t talked about was what came next. They knew that there would be media: photoshoots, interviews, appearances. The skate might be over, but the show would go on for weeks. 

***

Now, stepping out a non-descript side door and away from the Ellen set, Scott let out a sigh that seemed to come from deep within him, like he was releasing two years’ worth of stress and tension. Tessa side-eyed him and let out a tiny giggle.  
“Yeah.” She breathed out on a sigh of her own.  
“We’ve got that dinner thing tonight, yeah? Then that's it?” Scott asked as they got into the town car that had been dutifully driving them around for the last several days.  
“Yeah, that's the last one. So that’s at 8pm…and don’t call it a ‘thing’, we’ve had a lot of help these past few weeks-”  
“I know, T. Relax.” Scott reached across to fold his hand over her own where it rested between their seats. He squeezed it and let go, rubbing his hands on his knees as he glanced through the front windscreen. Just a little while longer. 

*** 

They were silent in the car on the way home from dinner, a comfortable silence of two people that know each other so well that often, words are unnecessary. Somehow tonight, however, there was an undercurrent of…something. Stepping into the lift, Tessa met Scott’s eyes as she reached over and, without breaking her gaze, pressed only the button for his floor. They continued to watch each other, in perfect stillness, until the elevator doors opened on the 6th floor. As they walked to his room, Scott stayed half a step behind Tessa. When she reached the door, she stood back and waited for him to unlock it before following him in, locking the door behind her. 

There was no frenzied grabbing at each other’s clothes or bruising of mouths as they met. Instead, as with everything they did, a perfect, calm synchronicity, with the fluency of two old lovers becoming reacquainted. There was no tension, no pause to make sure that this was the right thing. As though they had been doing this for years, because really, when you know each other THIS well, there’s no uncertainty around the first time. There’s no need to ask the awkward questions about positions, “does this feel good” or “what do you like?” It’s effortless, just like skating. And really, for all they had both built this moment up in their heads (because of course it was inevitable, it had been inevitable for two years) there was no need to. And it’s so perfectly THEM, equal parts passionate and playful, the occasional delighted laugh ringing out at how incredible this is, that neither of them ever thought it would be this easy. That it would feel so natural. That in the immediate aftermath, when they were both still struggling to catch their breath, Scott would pause to look at her, suddenly serious, to say “Yeah. We can never do that lift again.” And they would both giggle, lightheaded with relief and just plain happiness.  
Afterwards they lay in contented silence, Tessa tucked into his side, with her hand on his chest. He ran his fingertips up and down her arm, prompting a contented little noise from her, before he turned his head to kiss her forehead. 

“So…do you wanna call Ellen or should I?” 

Tessa chuckled into his torso, a low sound that reverberated through his ribcage.  
“Tomorrow…and tomorrow, and tomorrow.” 

With those words, a promise of endless tomorrows.


End file.
